Nathaniel Cross
Tuesday, 4:36pm, September 11, 2025
People always underestimate how easy it is to pull strings.
Smile at the right time. Say what they want to hear. Make them feel seen—important. That's all it takes. Most people just want to be noticed. Heard. Loved, maybe.
Control isn't about fear. It's about trust.
And they all trust me.
Or they used to.
Because last week, I found out something that changed everything.
Elijah slept with my girlfriend.
Bella. Sweet, loyal, perfect Bella. Or so I thought.
He never told me. She didn't either. But I heard it from someone who wouldn't lie to me. And when I confronted her, she didn't deny it.
She just cried.
I should've been mad at her. But all I could think about was him.
Elijah, with his quiet little smirks and his fake innocence. Like he didn't know exactly what he was doing. Like he didn't enjoy taking what wasn't his.
He played us all.
When he brought up the hangout on Wednesday, I said yes with a smile.
Because I needed to see him. Because I needed to decide what I was going to do.
That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. My fists clenched. My breath shallow.
He thought he was untouchable.
He had no idea how far I'd go to remind him who he was messing with.
And I wasn't the only one he'd crossed.
Not by a long shot.